Goodbye Waves & Driveways II
by Jayzeer
Summary: Now that Stan and Kyle are finally together, what will happen to them once college is their future? Will the couple remain in love, or break up through time?
1. New Beginnings

**Chapter 1**

_New Beginnings_

The wind whips at my face, the sun beating down on me. We have been driving for 26 hours total, not counting our stops. We recently entered Ithaca, New York, only at least twenty more minutes to go until we reached our bright future. I stare out at the window as we pass down a narrow street, green wrapped around the car on either side. I soon realize my head was sticking out like a dog, and I withdraw myself. Stan is concentrating on the road, his eyes a bit heavy from lack of sleep. I have to say I'm a bit tired myself, but I feel bad. He's been driving the entire time. I told him plenty of times that I'd go ahead and take the wheel, but no. He insisted on driving the car. "This is my car, Kyle. I saved up for it, I bought it and I'll be the one to drive it." So I told him that's fine. I'll have the last laugh when he either happens to get us killed, or nearly does when he passes out on the steering wheel.

I stare at the lush forests that pass us, my chin resting against the rim of the car door. I begin playing with the lock, pushing it up and down. I hear Stan murmur something to me about breaking it, so I soon stop and rest my hand against the seat. I inhale the air, watching as the woods begin to fade away into buildings. I watch a few people pass on the streets. Behind the buildings is the lake, the water expanding out in a deep blue abyss, sparkling madly against the suns beam. "It's pretty here," I compliment.

"I thought you'd like it." Stan says to me. I remove myself from the window, staring forward at the street. "We're almost there."

"Finally." I breath, straightening myself in my seat. I admit, I'm quite agitated. I had been planned for college probably all my life, and ever since freshman year I've been sort of excited about it. Everyone thought I was stupid to look forward to it, but I see it as a start of my life. A new beginning. Not only that, but I won't be alone. I won't need to worry; I'm with Stan, and that's all that I need to be happy. I was really excited when I found out Stan got accepted to Cornell as well. He was just as pleased.

As we turn a corner, I read Tioga St. I look down at the directions we have. The last step. I smile, looking up eagerly. There it stands, Cornell. Holy shit, it's huge! It definitely doesn't look like a college at all. More like the Notre Dame. I stare in awe at the large structure. Stan allows a chuckle. "Expected a little less?"

"Dude.. It looks like a god damn castle!" I practically yell. Stan laughs at me, pulling up to the school. I can't help but continue to stare at the building, the large tower like structures. It's beautiful. People are passing as and chatting to each other as we step out. A few females throw us glances. Stan gestures a wave, the girls irrupting in giggle fits as they look away and titter to each other. I look at Stan. "Flirtatious?"

Stan looks at me, pulling out one of the bags. "What do you mean?"

"You're so oblivious, dude."

He snorts. "I guess so." Stan begins pulling more baggage from the car. We decided to pack somewhat light. We had earned enough money through jobs that we figured we'd just buy some clothes while we're here. We were in need of a new closet anyway. Lucky for us, we're use to wearing warm clothes; Ithaca isn't the warmest place either. But lucky us, the sky is clear enough to satisfy us, the sun still shining brightly. I love these kinds of days.

I hear a bang, as if someone had hit the chords of a guitar violently. I whip around, watching as Stan cussed to himself. He opened the case slightly, checking on the fragile instrument inside. I didn't know he brought his guitar. I repeated my thought out loud.

"Well," he answers. "I've been kind of into it lately."

"Really?" I say, arms folding. "Who would have known." I still clearly remember that day when I woke up in Stan's bed after crashing against the hard, icy side walk. I remember seeing his guitar placed carefully next to his night stand, a crumpled up paper on it. I never did tell him about that. "Do you know any songs?"

I can tell he's a bit embarrassed, his cheeks flushing. I really don't understand why. "Some."

"Do you write your own songs?"

He glances at me. "Uh.. Maybe."

I smile, revealing my teeth. "Really, now?"

Stan shuts the trunk, locking the door and taking hold of a few baggage. I give him a hand and pick some up myself, both of us walking. "I said maybe."

"Maybe usually means yes."

"Well, you're wrong then." he mutters. "Or at least the time."

I chuckle at him, shaking my head and looking forward. "Sure, whatever, Stan." I say. "But I'll force it out of you one of these days."

"Maybe, when you're dead." he glances at me, flashing his own rows of teeth. "And this time, 'maybe' is a yes."

I purse my lips. "Retard."

We shortly received our dorm keys. We managed to get a room together, but we also hard to share it with one other guy. I was hoping it'd be just Stan and I, but I guess that's pretty much impossible for us. Anyhow, we find ourselves traveling through the hallway of the dorm. A few people are talking to each other, one sitting at the end of the hallway studying. Other than that, it's pretty quiet. What a surprise. I watch as the room numbers grow as we pass. Finally, we reach ours; Room 137. Stan places the keys into the door knob, twisting it open and pushing it. We glance around inside before entering, the lights off. As Stan switches the light on, I shuffle to one of the uncovered beds, placing the luggage at the foot of it. Stands places the rest at one of the other beds. "I wonder how this kid got so lucky and had a room to himself." I say.

Stan shrugs, staring around our new surroundings. The room is simple. Dark blue walling, white carpeting. Only one of the beds is covered by a black comforter, simply thrown on the bed with out care. A desk is placed near it. A bunch of papers are stacked, a couple books, office supplies and that's really it. I look around some more before Stan takes hold of me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His eyes are narrowed in a seductive glare, causing me to blush. "Good thing we're alone, huh?" he coos.

I blink at him, before letting out a low chuckle and placing my hands around him as well. "Doubtfully for very long."

Stan rolls his eyes. "Silly, naive, Kyle Broflowski. I think we have enough time."

I gulp. "Shut up, Stan. I don't-"

He stares at me, his expression turning into a confused look. "Did you think I meant-..." then he roars into laughter, taking me into a hug. I'm still confused by now.

"You didn't?"

"Of course not!" he pulls away from the hug to watch me, remaining close in my arms, as I in his. "I'm not ready for uh... that." I feel my face warm, yet a sigh of relief escapes my mouth, looking away. Stan removes one of his hands and places my chin underneath his thumb and causes me to look back at him. "I meant kissing."

"Oh." I say. "Heh, I'm up for that."

Stan presses our foreheads together, closing his eyes and giving a polite smile to me. I love when he does that. "Good." he whispers. "Because I wouldn't have given you a choice."

I grin. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, nothing." he presses our lips. The kiss begins simple, slow, but filled with so much love. Slowly, it turns more passionate, causing my shoulders to lift in surprise as it hardens. My hands lift to the back of his neck, my fingers tangling in his pitch black hair. He sits me down, leaning over as I shift myself on the bed higher, allowing us to lie down, Stan hovering over me. He keeps one hand on my hip, the other placed against my jaw line as he continues to eagerly kiss me. My eyes narrow.

"Why so eager?" I manage to whisper.

"I don't know," Stan says. He pulls his face away, still close though. We both breath deeply. He pushes his lips out, giving me a funny look. I chuckle at him. "What? You don't like it?"

I snort, smiling at him, placing my hand against his cheek. "Nawh," I supply. "I like it. I just didn't expect... so much."

He bites his lip. "And why not?" he pouts. "I guess you'll just have to get use to me wanting you so badly."

I jerk my head back slightly, giggling at him. "Really?" I say. "I guess I'll have to, won't I?" he beams with me. "I'm just not use to this. You and me."

He strokes the side of my face with the back of his hand, caressing it gently. He has a nice look on his face, smiling with his eyes. "Well, you'll have to get use to that as well." he says. Stan now leans in, kissing the top of my forehead before pulling away again and looking back to me. "Because I don't plan on making it change."

I can't help but smile like an idiot at that. "Stanley Marsh, do you realize how amazing you are?"

He lowers himself, eyes narrowing as he scrunches up his face. "Back 'atcha."

I chuckle, leaning in for another kiss. This time, he makes sure to keep it gentle, moving his lips slowly, just the way I like it.

Once the door slams open, we both jump. I hear Stan yelp, slipping off the bed and landing with a thud on the ground. I gasp, sitting up and looking down. "Are you okay?"

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What the hell?" a voice says. A hear something drop on the desk, and I bend back around. An average height boy stands at the foot of the bed, arms folded. He wears a shirt, titled "Abercrombie & Fitch", with simple jeans covering his legs. His brown hair is messy, slightly wavy, reminding me of Kenny's hair. I let out a sigh. Kenny.. I jump when the boy speaks again. "What the fuck do you think you two are doing? This is my room!"

Stan gets to his feet, looking to the boy, still rubbing his neck. "Not just yours, anymore." he says. "We're your new room mates."

The boy looks a bit appalled. "Really?" he sighs. "Fuck dude, I liked it here myself."

"Like it or not." I inhale.

The boy looks at me. "Right." he mutters. "I'm Peter."

"Kyle Broflowski."

"Stan Marsh."

Peter is giving me an odd look, an oddly familiar look that is.. I look to Stan. "I guess we should start unpacking and go get our schedules."

Stan nods in agreement.

"If you want.." Peter is putting his own things away, placing his laptop on the desk and dropping his books on it as well. "I can show you around the school so you guys don't get lost."

Stan and I look to each other. "Sure."

Stan and I remain close to each other as we walk. His arm is around my shoulders, which makes me very happy. It's good to know Stan doesn't care about being in public with each other anymore. He use to be so anal about it. Now he could care less. My own arm is wrapped around his waist, both of us staring around as Peter discusses things to his about Cornell. He tells us about some of the teachers, the people, and so on and so forth. We stop walking, my hand slipping back to my side. Peter is messing with his shoe, now glancing up at me then straightening myself. I hear Stan exhale, as if angry. I glance at him before looking back to our room mate.

"That's really all." he says.

Stan gnaws on his bottom lip. "Is there anything to do around here?"

Peter shrugs. "I guess so. Most of us really just hang around the lake." Stan glances at me, giving a nudge at my waist. I smile, still looking at Peter. He rubs at the bridge of his nose. "We're all going down tomorrow night before we have to go back on Monday. Maybe you guys can come a long, get settled into our group."

I glance up at Stan. "Sounds good to me."

Stan nods. "Sure." he withdraws his arm from around me, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Sounds pretty good."

Stan is lying on his freshly made bed, flipping lazily through a magazine, Funeral For A Friend blasting through his head phones. I'm writing things down all over a paper to my family, telling them about Ithaca, Cornell and my new room mate. Speaking of Peter, he walks in, changed into simple white pajama pants. He leaps on his bed, burring his head into his pillow. He looks a bit stressed. I sit up, looking at him with pitying eyes. "What's wrong?" Peter muffles something into the pillow. Lucky for him, I'm use to this kind of speak. "You're girlfriend broke up with you?"

"No." he snaps, lifting his head from the pillow and staring at me. "My boyfriend."

I feel a hard lump in my throat, throwing a glance to Stan. Great. Another person that will probably grow attracted to Stan. I look back at Peter in a second, though. "You're, uh.. gay?"

Peter doesn't reply, throwing himself back into the pillow. I frown, picking myself up and sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed. I hesitate before placing my hand against his back bone, stroking it with my thumb. "It'll be all right, Peter." I hear the music in the back ground stop. I turn my head, seeing Stan as he watches me. Carefully. I give him a confused look, causing him to look back down to the magazine, but his music remains off.

_**To be continued..**_

_--  
_**Summary**: Now that Stan and Kyle are finally together, what will happen to them once college is their future? Will the couple remain in love, or break up through time?

**Disclaimer**: I only wish I owned South Park D: Blame the awesome Matt and Trey for this fic. Cornell is a real college in Ithaca, New York. I obviously have no relation to it what so ever. I had to do some research for this fanfic in order to get my details straight (: I seriously even map quested directions from South Park, CO to Ithaca, NY ROFL! And fuck yes, it's take 26 hours and 27 minutes D:

**Additional Comments**: Once again, Matured for strong language, perversion, makinz out and possible violence. I don't plan, and never will plan, for there to be sex scenes. So if you have virgin oiz, I guarantee you won't need to worry about becoming totally corrupted.

I remember saying I might make a new sequal. And Stan is right, maybe usually does mean yes. Because I said "Maybe I'll write a sequal." and wah lah, here it is. The sequal to Goodbye Waves & Driveways. So yeah, here we go. I had a massive giggle fit when I was writing the whole "I'm not ready, lawl" part. And as I said, nothing will happen. Stephanie Meyer may blame not putting sex in Twilight because of her religion, but I blame it on my large immaturity and the fact I wouldn't be able to write it and actually have the confidence to actually post it. Fuck dude, I don't want to imagine.

You'll probably wondering what the hell Ithaca looks like and why Kyle explains it as looking like the Notre Dame. Well here ya go; m./CornellClock.jpg

Also, here's a good look of what I had in mind while writing that; /Ithaca.jpg Aint it perdy?


	2. Drama

**Chapter 2**

_Drama, Drama, Drama!_

It's dark. I stare out the window, the breeze gently drifting in and blowing against the dark curtains. I stare weakly at them, my eyes drowsy with exhaustion. I find myself not able to sleep. I'm not nervous for anything, I'm not sad, I'm not scared. I'm perfectly fine. I just can't fall asleep. I glance down at Peter, whom is fast asleep against me, his face buried in my shoulder. He's sprawled on the bed, leaving me with hardly any room with nearly half of my body hanging off the bed. My fingers dig into the mattress, trying to remain stable. I shift slightly, trying to remove myself from underneath him. Peter holds onto my arm, grasping it and not allowing me to move. I sigh, averting my eyes back to the window. Movement causes me to look back, looking to Stan as he rolls onto his other side, facing me. His eyes are hardly open, slowly opening fully as he adjusts to the dark room. "Kyle? What are you still doing up?"

"I can't sleep." I whisper back.

"Why not?"

I shrug, inhaling. "I'm not really comfortable, I guess."

Stan looked away with a yawn, then back to me. "Well, come here then." he scoots to the edge of the bed, rolling on his back and staring up at the ceiling. I narrow my eyes. "Well?"

"No, you need your sleep too."

"I think I got enough." he replies. "Besides, I can sleep fine."

I grumble to myself. "Either way, I can't."

"How come?" Stan turns his head to me. I gesture to Peter, whom remains attached to me. Stan scoffs. "Oh, right. Just slide out."

I hesitate before trying to pull my arm away. For a second, he stirs, then attacks my pillow in a death grip. I hear Stan chuckle behind my back, but I ignore it, turning around to face him. He pats next to him on the bed, giving a 'Pweease lay down wif mee?' kind of look.

I stare at the space in discomfort. "I don't think we'll both fit."

"You're not a fat ass like Cartman," he supplies. "Now come here. Besides, you and Peter can fit on that bed together, you can fit with me." I can't help but let out a laugh at this, crawling next to him. We hardly fit on the small bed, but he squeezes himself against me, taking hold of me. I smile as I lie in Stan's arms, his chin resting against the top of my hair. "See, not so bad." he whispers.

I shut my eyes for a second before adjusting my head to look to him. He does the same, our foreheads touching. "Yeah." I reply. "Excited for tomorrow?"

He shrugs. "Eh.. Hanging around a bunch of college kids at a lake. Sounds fun." I snort at that. "Maybe they'll be some babes there." I jerk my head back, my mouth open wide, ready to disagree. He laughs, putting his hand over my mouth. "I'm kidding!" he yelps in a low voice. My face relaxes, Stan now removing his hand as he notices.

"Good." I say. "I was ready to kill you, ass hole."

Stan grins, as if proud of that fact. "You wouldn't touch me."

"I bet I would."

"You wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I killed an ant the other day."

"Mmm," Stan coos. "Mighty warrior."

"Hell yes." I say, giving a determined, hard expression. Stan smiles, giving me a peck on the cheek. My face turns bright red. "Why just the cheek?"

"You're tired." he says, chin resting against the top of my head again. "We both are. Get some sleep."

I sigh, my eyes slipping shut. "So you act all cute, getting me to sleep in the same bed with you, and then you won't even kiss me." I huff angrily.

Stan glances down, beaming. "You really want a kiss that bad?"

I push my bottom lip out, revealing a pout. He laughs. "I worked hard to get you to admit your love for me. I think I deserve one last kiss before we sleep."

"Right, you're right." he rolls his eyes sarcastically, craning his neck down to lock me into a short kiss. Before I can even react, he pulls himself back into his former position. I grumble in displeasure. "We have our entire lives, Kyle."

I growl at him. He strokes my hair, chuckling lowly under his breath. "Fine." I say in return. "But I'll keep this in mind."

"Sure you will." Stan huffs. "Now really, get some sleep, _Broflovski_."

"Okay, _Marsh_."

Stan laughs one more time before unconsciousness takes control of both of us.

"Kyle.."

I stare down as the waves brush against my ankles. The sun is not out, the sky is gloomy. It's pitch black, pricks of white dotting the sky and reaching to the tips of the universe. My eyes are lazy, gazing weakly at the other side of the lake. A small smile creeps on my lips, my body turning. He stands in the near distance, soaking wet with an odd aura glowing around him. His eyes are empty, no pupils found. Something about his deep, lifeless blue eyes interests me. "Kyle... you can't."

"Why not?" my whisper is forced out.

"Because you're not ready to cross over." he replies, his voice smooth.

"What can I do to finally be back with you? You're my best friend, Kenny. I miss you."

"There's nothing you can do." he sighs. "..besides dieing. And I refuse to let that happen to you. You have people that care about you. So many people will miss you, and actually cry at your funeral." his head tilts just a bit, giving me a serene look. "You don't understand how much you have, Kyle."

"I don't care!" I whimper. "I miss you, Kenny! You left us all so unfairly. I'll make sure-"

He beams. "I know. I know. I heard everything you said to my grave."

"Then why didn't you answer me?" I exclaim. "I wanted you to answer me so bad. I wanted to hear your voice. I needed you. You were always there for me, and then I needed you. And you weren't there to help me."

Kenny centers his eyes to mine. This time, he is the one to walk forward. Once he reaches me, he holds his thinly transparent hand against my tear stained cheek. "I can't." he speaks. "Just remember.. No matter what happens, stay with them. Stay with Stan. Stay with Peter. Stay with your mom, your dad, your brother, all of your family and friends. They need you, Kyle."

I slip my eyes shut. "Come back, Kenny, please."

"I can't."

"Why?!"

"I'm dead. There's no going back. What happened is what happened, no matter how unfair it was, no matter you didn't get to say goodbye, no matter who cried. I'm dead. I'm gone. And I'll most likely be forgotten."

"I'd never forget you!" I yelp. My hand swings up, going to take hold of his wrist that is gently placed on my face. My fingers slip right through his hand, only falling against my own face. I stare in confusion, trying to take hold of his wrist again. Desperate, my arms try to wrap around his body. He frowns, taking hold of my arms and pulling me away. How come he can touch me and I can't?

"I know you won't." Kenny answers with a smile. "And that's good to know... Please stop crying."

"But I can't help it." I sob. "I lost my best friend."

"You didn't lose me." the blond sighs. "I'm still here to listen to everything you tell me."

"But you can't answer me."

"Of course I can."

"How, Kenny, tell me how!" I snap. He doesn't even flinch.

"You'll just know." he grins at me. With out warning, he turns to walk away. I gasp.

"Kenny! Don't leave!"

He looks over his shoulder. "Sorry." he says. "But I have to." he points to the sky. "Big guns upstairs is commanding me to."

I sigh, wiping at my eyes. "I'll miss you."

Kenny gives me a smile. "You too, dude." then he turns back around, only taking a couple more steps before looking back over his shoulder. "Oh, and... don't get too jealous."

I blink. I was about to ask him what he meant, but he vanished before I could. Now I stood in dead silence, alone, and with a massive heart ache.

"WAKE UP!"

My eyes slam wide, staring up at the eyes of Peter now. Both windows were open, the breeze blowing in. It took me only a couple seconds to adjust to the blinding light. Peter leans over me, a scowl on his face. "Finally." he hisses. "We're almost late."

I yawn, Peter stepping back as I sit on the edge of the bed and rubbing my eyes. "What for?"

"Have you forgotten so quickly?" Peter responds sharply. I sit there for a while, waiting for him to tell me what he means. "The lake!" he snaps.

I jump in surprise. Oh fuck, I forgot about that. "Well why didn't you wake me up then?" I hiss back. There was no respons, so hurriedly, I stand and go through my clothes. I frantically pull on my jeans, only to be stopped by Peter.

"Lake." he reminds me.

"Oh.." I blink. "Right." Granted, I change out of my casual wear into to my swim trunks, throwing a shirt over my torso and taking hold of a towel. "Let's go."

We lock the door behind us, Peter fiddling with the keys as we walk. I just realize; "Hey, where's Stan?"

"He didn't want to wake you." Peter replies. "But he told me he'd meet us there."

I blink, confused on why Stan wouldn't just wait for me. "Why? Was he in a hurry?"

"No," the boy answers. "I think he just wanted to get there.. first?" he shrugs, just as confused as I am. "So. You and Stan are.. dating?"

I nod slowly. "Yeah." I answer.

"How long have you known each other?"

"Practically our entire lives."

"Hm.. Have you always felt that way for each other?"

I glance at him, shrugging. "I don't know. I only realized it when I was twelve."

"Have you always been gay?"

I nearly choke, my head turning to him instantly. "I'm not gay." I whisper.

Peter laughs loudly. "But you love Stan?"

"I'm just.. gay for him. No one else."

"Right." Peter says with a roll of his eyes. "So you wouldn't go gay for me?"

My eyes narrow. "Of course not."

He reveals a frown. "Right.."

I study his expression before looking away. Well, that's awkward.

We make it to the lake, Peter and I stepping out of his car once we parked. A group of people gather in an area, a few in the water and a few on land. The smell of the barbecue makes my mouth water, stomach bellowing. I look around in any hope to find Stan, but I don't see him, also considering my hunt is interrupted as Peter takes hold of my arm and drags me to the group. "Hey you guys, this is Kyle. He's a freshy."

"New meet." one of them said, his muscles bulging.

I stare at him carefully, giving a quick grin before looking away, my arched eye brows revealing my horrified thoughts. Peter continues speaking; "Now be nice you guys, Kyle's cool. Kyle?" I glance at him. "This is Hunter, Tyler, Alice, Stephen, Tessa and Kaylee." He gestures to each one. Hunter is the buff one that said those two simple words. His hair is brown, skin slightly tanned. His face is well defined, a square jaw with large, brown eyes. Tyler is blond, his hair somewhat shaggy. His bangs cover his eyes, showing the sign he was swimming not too long ago. He was quite pale, freckles covering nearly every inch of his body, blue eyes watching me as I inspect everyone. He has an arm around Alice, whom is short and very thin. She has black hair, a blue streak on a thick stay of hair that frames her childish face, her auds green. Stephen is African-American, his pitch black hair shaved. I'd expect him and Hunter to be best friends, only because they're both the only totally buff guys. As for Tessa and Kaylee, they're both twins; faded red, wavy hair with straight bangs. I guess the girls are what Cartman would classify as "ginger kids" just.. they're not creepy looking at all.

"Nice to meet you." I speak up, trying to be polite. I want to give a good first impression, since I don't want to be alone in this college world.

"You too." Alice says with a smile.

I flash one back. I look at Peter. "I'm gonna go find Stan."

"All right." Peter responds.

I begin walking now, my feet hitting the grass. "Kyle, wait!" I blink, looking over my shoulder. Alice chases after me, eventually catching up to my side. Tyler gives me a glare from afar, Stephen shaking his head and laughing as he tries to catch his attention. I look away, back to Alice. "I wanted to help you."

"Why?" I question. "We just met.."

"Exactly." she says with a perky grin. "We just met. I want to get to know you."

I smile at this. At least I'm accepted by one of them, right? "Thanks. That's good to know."

"No problem." she answers. "So, who is this Stan?"

"Oh." the sound of everyone talking fades away, a long with the splashes of the water. It's just us both now, walking past trees as we head towards where most of the people are; the bathrooms, a play set, all that stuff. "He's my best friend.." she nods.

"Peter told me that you guys were more of the dating type." Alice cuts in. She's still smiling.

I blink at her, confused. "Peter talks about me?"

"Well, he wanted to let us know that he was bringing his new roomies." she supplies. "So he told me a little bit about you. Not much about Stan though.."

I glance away, looking forward as I walk. She does the same. "Huh.." I say. "What'd he say about me?"

"My lips are sealed." she taunts.

I laugh. "That's not fair. Don't I have a right to know?"

"Sure you do." she says. "But I've never been the legal type."

"Thanks for the warning."

Alice giggles. "No problem. You'll need it."

"Thanks for another warning. The girl responds with another giggle, but gives no talking reply. We walk in silence now. I see Stan though, my face lighting up at once. He's talking to someone, a girl. I don't know who she is. I point to Stan. "That's Stan."

"Oooh." Alice says. "Uh oh."

"What?" I stop, looking at her.

She folds her arms behind her back. "It's just.. she's talking to Lauren... and well.. Lauren.. how do I put this.. she's a slut. A class act, at that."

My jaw drops, looking back to them. "Bitch." I look back to Alice as she lets out a loud laugh.

"You can tell that to her all you want, but she'll kill to get what she wants. Half the time she ends up dropping them the night after anyway."

"After.. after what?" Alice bites her lip, lifting a shoulder. I gape. "Stan wouldn't."

"Happened to my ex." she says. "He fell for her charm." her tone changes, giving an irritated sound. "I don't know what charm she has, I can't figure out. All she has a big ass and bleach blond hair. Don't see anything special in her."

I laugh at this. "It was nice to meet you, Alice."

Alice frowns. "You want me to leave?"

"I'd rather deal with this by myself."

Alice nods, the frown vanishing. "Good luck." she gives me a thumbs up before trotting off back to her friends. I like Alice.

But that doesn't matter right now. I turn back to Stan and that.. that skank! I make my way to them quickly, fists clenching with every inch I get closer. She's leaning up against the bathroom wall, arms folded with a smile on her face. Stan is standing next to her, keeping a fair enough distance. He isn't smiling, but he's not frowning. At least he doesn't seem to be completely happy that he's talking to her.

"Hi, Stan."

At once, Stan's dull look brightens to a grin. I smile back, glancing to Lauren. She frowns, staring at me in confusion. "Kyle!" he beams. "I didn't want to wake you up, sorry."

"It's all right." I say. "Who is this?" I turn towards Lauren. She

flashes a cheap smile.

Stan gestures to her. "This is Lauren. I just met her. Lauren, this is Kyle."

"Hi." she says, smiling.

"Hi." I respond, giving one in return. I look at Stan. "Let's go, I told Peter we'd get back once I found you."

Stan looked at Lauren, then back at me. "Can Lauren come?"

My teeth clench. I don't respond, still grinning. What do I say? Fuck no, get this girl away from us! "S-Sure.." I manage to hiss out. Lauren's smile gives away her attitude, showing that's she triumphed here. I let my smile drop. "Let's go now. The others are waiting for us." We all begin walking now, keeping an eye on Lauren. She walks next to me, which I made sure to happen. I look up at Stan now. He looks a bit uncomfortable. "Stan?" he looks down. "Why didn't you just wake me up?"

He frowns. "You were up all night." he says. "I thought you'd like to sleep in before school."

"Well, thanks for being considerate." I respond with a smirk. "But next time I'd rather get woken up by you, not Peter."

"What's wrong with Peter?" he asks me, lifting one of his eye brows.

"Nothing, he's fine." I reply quickly. I can't tell Stan that Peter might have tried to hint to me that he likes me. He doesn't need to know..

"Yeah." he simply states in return.

The music is booming at our area, and I can see Stan staring at me in the corner of my eye. He's singing the song. Once I turn to him he starts attacking me with stupid dance moves that were probably found in the music video. "G-G-G-G-Get freaky!" he sings. I stare at him with a weird look. He stops, giving me a scowl. "Don't be such a pussy, dance with me!"

"I don't want to look like a retard."

He folds his arms. "This is how all the cool kids dance, Kyle. Do you want to look stupid by not knowing the cool moves?"

I scoff. "One, those moves are not cool and it makes you look stupid anyway. Two, have you forgotten I have no rythm?"

Stan purses his lips, giving a sarcastic thinking expression. I roll my eyes. "You can change that theory. It's not hard." He takes hold of my shoulders, getting so close to my face I can feel his breath come out, he starts moving again and I laugh.

"It looks like you're trying to hump me."

He stops, holding in a laugh. "You're making me look like a stripper."

"I don't like strippers." I sigh. "I think I'd rather order a whore."

"Oh, me too!" he exclaims, giving a grin. I can tell he's kidding.

"Now how much was it?" I ask.

"Five dolla." he cooes. "Will that make you dance with me?"

"Hell no." I say, ducking from his reach and moving to the side. Stan straightens, giving me a sad look. Once he realizes I don't care, he let's it slip. He looked to the group I had previous talked to. Tyler is watching us both, muttering things to Alice, whom looks angry with him. I can only imagine what he's saying about me. I don't even know why he doesn't like me; we just met!

"What is it?" Stan asks me.

I look at him. How can he read me like a book so easily like that? "Nothing."

"There's something bugging you." he says with a sigh.

"It's nothing, really."

"Is it Lauren?"

"Well." I look away. "I guess that's also whats on my mind, but not what I'm thinking about right now. I just have a lot on my mind, nothing to worry about."

Stan tries to grab my hand, but I don't let him. I don't know why I'm being so stubborn with him. I guess it's because the dumb fuck was talking to some skank. Yeah, that's it.. I'll blame it on her. "Come on, Kyle. Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not." he gives me an unsure look. "Really!"

"Convince me."

"How?"

He gives me a sly expression, eyes narrowing. "You know how."

I restrain my hand from slapping my own forehead. "Stan."

"Oh come on!" Stan groans. "You acted the same why last night, didn't you?"

"T-That's different." I find myself stuttering under the pressure. "I'm allowed to do that, I worked hard for it. You did shit."

"Psh."

He doesn't say anything else. Given, I begin to walk away from him. Knowing Stan, he starts trailing behind me. I reach Peter and the others in no time. "Hey, guys." I greet.

"Hey." Peter responds with a grin.

Everyone but Tyler returns the gesture. He's still glaring at me. I glance at him before looking away. "Did I miss anything?"

"Not really." Kaylee says. This is the first time I've heard her talk. Her voice is smooth and nice to listen to, having an English accent. "Just talking about... um... stuff."

I give her a confused look. All right then. I look at Alice. "Can I talk to you Alice?" Tyler grabs her hand. "Alone?" It tightens.

Alice pulls her hand away, scowling at him before grabbing my arm and dragging me away. Tyler doesn't hesitate to keep an eye on us. Both eyes, that is. I can feel the burning sensation in the back of my head. "What is it?"

"Is Tyler mad at me?"

"Uh.."

A bit obvious reaction. "Why?" I question. "We just met, what did I do?"

"He's just jealous, is all." Alice replies.

I squint. "Of what?"

"He thinks you like me." she says this with a low chuckle. She thinks this is funny?

"Well.. I like you.." she tilts her head, lips parting. "But not in that way."

The girl snorts. "That's what I said. But thats how he is with everyone. It's damn annoying."

"Yeah, I bet."

Alice decides to break a few moments of silence. "So, how are things with Stan and Lauren?"

"I had to invite her." I snarl.

Alice laughs. "I noticed. I saw her prancing around, surprised she hasn't raided our cooler for beer." she looks over her shoulder, as if checking on it. She looks back to me once she notices all is well.

I smirk. "Maybe I can bribe her with beer to stay away."

"She'd go against your bribe."

"I guarantee it." I answer with a sigh. My eyes look away to Stan. I watch as he converses with Peter, Tessa, Tyler, Kaylee, Hunter and Stephen. They're all laughing after Stan speak, soon to join in with them. I watch. Well, at least he fits in with them. His head turns slightly, eyes catching mine. He gives a soft smile and gesturing a short wave. I return it before looking back to Alice. She's fiddling with the blue stand in her hair. I fold my arms. "Hey, Alice?" she glances up. "Do you think Stan and I are.. right for each other?"

Alice narrows her eyes. "I hardly know you both." she says. "Especially your relationship."

I sigh. "Right. Thanks, anyway." Alice frowns, seeing the disappointment in my voice. She doesn't say anything. She nudges my arm with her fist before turning away and walking back to her friends. I watch her before looking back to Stan. Part of me is excited that we're together in college. I wanted this so much. But at the same time... can I handle the drama that comes with it?

_**To be continued..**_

_--  
_I apologize for the failure that this is turning out to be, or so it seems to be turning out to be. I know you're probably thinking that original characters in fanfictions are usually really stupid, but don't you worry. They won't have much part in this. I'm going to make it about Stan and Kyle and Stan and Kyle ONLAH. I threw in the OC's so I could add in the drama, and also because I highly doubt all the South Park characters would all conveniently end up at the same exact school! And even though Kenny is dead, I still manage to fit him in, isn't that awesome?! I just love that little dude too much :D

I had originally decided to squeeze in a couple chapters into this one, but I decided not to.


	3. Unexpected

**Chapter 3**

_Unexpected_

The only person in my second to last class that I know is Peter. We were luckily able to grab a seat together in the near top of the class room. Our professor goes on about our assignment. I'm so happy the class is almost over, I'm completely and utterly bored out of my mind. Peter bites against his eraser on the pencil, glancing over to me and setting it down. "So what did you think about yesterday?" he whispers to me.

I only move my eyes to look at him. "It was fine." I answer, just as quietly. "To be honest.. I kind of felt like Alice was the only one that liked me though."

He shakes his head, lowly chuckling at this. "That's college for you."

Thanks for being so blunt, Peter! "Right-"

"Broflovski."

I glance up quickly. Shit. "Yes?"

"Is there a reason you're talking at the same time?"

"I was asking him about something."

"And what would that be?"

Once I notice my pause has token too long, I gulp and reply. "If he uh.. had a pencil. Mine broke."

"Well next time, bring extra, Mr Broflovski." the professor lifts his eye brows. "My class is of more importance than your silly social life, Broflovski. Next time I catch this, you'll have to do a ten page essay. You can just do a five page essay while the others do three." He turns away, going back to what he was saying. I sink into my seat, which is absolutely worthless, for once I get at a low enough posture, he dismisses us. Fuck, five pages? Well, it could be worse. He could have gotten me into some pretty deep shit if he really wanted to. I gather my things quickly, wanting to get the hell out of there before he can possibly call me back. Once I step out side of the room, I let out a loud exhale. Peter is laughing at me once he reaches.

"That was entertaining."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, but you can do two pages of my essay since this is all your fault."

"Nawh," Peter replies. "I think I'll stick with just doing my three pages."

I snort, mainly in anger than humor. "Well, I'll see you back at the dorm." I say, quickly trying to dismiss him.

Peter shrugs. "All right, see ya." He says its so simply and stalks off, but I know he'll confront me about my attitude later. He's really stupid if he doesn't get why I appear so angry.

But I'm going to push that aside. I don't want Stan to worry about this when I get to our last class. This is the only class I have with Stan. It's not that bad, since we can spend the entire beginning and rest of the day together. But I guess we're both use to being in the same classes for nearly our entire school-attending years, that we miss seeing each other the majority of the day. I don't even see him whenever we pass to head off to our next class, the school is so big.

I open the door, gently shutting it behind me. I stand there for a second, scanning the room. I finally find the back of his head, half of it covered by a dark gray beanie. His head is tossed back, eyes shut. He lets out a yawn before sitting up, and looks to me as I reach the chair next to him, taking a seat. I pull my hand up, yanking the hat from off of his head and chucking it at his lap. "I don't think they'll appreciate the hat."

"My first classes didn't give a shit." Stan mumbles back, slipping it back on his hair. He adjusts it a bit before leaning in his chair and folding his arms. "So, how were yours?"

"Fine, I guess." I supply. "I already got in trouble."

Stan lowly laughs. "That's not a big surprise to me."

"Oh, ha ha." I narrow my eyes. "I'd be in complete shock to know you haven't gotten yourself in trouble yet."

"Oh, don't worry."

I lift my eye brows. "Details?"

"No."

I blink. "Why not?"

"You'll have to do something for them." he says, looking forward and pursing his lips. I twist in my chair, to face him.

"And what would that be?"

"Dinner."

I half smile. "That's all? Geeze, Stan. I expected more from you."

"You didn't let me finish." he says quickly, looking at me in the corner of his eye. "Dinner. And... um.." I laugh at him, shaking my head as he thinks. He goes to say another 'um', but I block his mouth with my hand before he can.

"Dinner is just fine." I say. "Isn't it?"

Stan takes hold of my hand between his, lowering it. "If I'm with you." he remarks, turning his head to me.

I grin at this. "You need to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Eh, I'll sound stupid."

"Doubt it." Stan says with an inhale.

"Stop being so charming." I say, my cheeks bright red. He tries not to burst out into laughter. Once I note this, I hit him across the shoulder. "Ass hole." I say.

He chuckles, not allowing me to pull my hand away. "I'm sorry, Kyle." he says. "It's just that I'm nothing near charming."

"That's what you said about being perfect, too."

"That's because it's true. I'm really not."

"Denial."

Stan scoffs. He laces our fingers together. I glare the chalk board. "You just think I'm so perfect and charming because you, Kyle Broflovski, is in denial of your own perfectness and charming abilities." he says this with such a straight face. I know he's serious, but I can sense he thinks its funny how he worded it. Charming abilities. Riiiight.

"There you go again." I sigh. My hard expression disappeared, and I look at him.

"It's a bad habit, I guess."

"I can tell." I murmur.

He smiles, leaning in laying a gentle peck on my forehead. I sigh, looking away. He removes our hands, laying his own on the chair's arms. The professor begins the lesson.

"You call this dinner?"

Stan and I stand in the front door of a bar-like structure. There are two pool tables in the right hand side of the building, a couple of tables scattered among the other half. The bar is directly in the middle, the first thing you see when you walk in. The bartender is watching the TV (a football game), back faced to us. "I can't afford a fancy pants restaurant like you can." he tells me. "Or at least not right now. So consider this as... an appetizer. Or something." he rolls his eyes, finding stupidity in what he said. I shrug.

"Well, just look at it this way." I say. "We can get totally smashed and have a hard core hang over during our classes together. That sounds like hell of a day ahead of us."

He hits my side. "Shut up."

I smile. He's embaressed. "It's all right, Stan. This looks like fun."

"Well, there's an IOU hanging above our heads right now." he insists.

"Whatever you say." We both walk forward, taking a seat at the bar. The Bartender pays no attention to is, hooting at the game. Stan clears his throat, trying to catch his focus. It takes another cough for him to finally turn.

"What?" he snaps. Oh great. It's Tyler. Of all people! "Oh, hey." he glances at me, his expression hardening. He lets it disappear though, looking back to Stan. "What can I get for you, dude?"

Stan rubs the back of his neck. "I'll just get a Coke."

Tyler lifts his eye brows, as if shocked Stan is getting a soda. Can't blame him, this is a bar, isn't it? He looks to me.

I rub my forehead, looking down. "A beer."

Stan jerks his head back before laughing at me. "A beer?"

"Yeah."

"Heh," Tyler scoffs. "Coming up." he turns away from us, readying our drinks. I think it's kind of odd that Tyler doesn't care that I'm not legal yet. It's probably because he'd like to get caught drunk off my ass at my age. I lift my head to Stan.

"Why is this so funny?"

"I didn't know you drank." Stan says with a shrug.

"I don't." I hiss. "But I'm going to need something strong if I have to hang around him." Stan shakes his head, resting his chin on his palm. Tyler turns back to us, setting the glasses down. Stan takes his glass at once, taking a sip. I pull mine closer, straightening myself slightly. Stan watches,

giving a smug look, doubting my ability to drink the beer. I prove him wrong though, putting the rim to my chapped lips and chugging down the entire mug. Stan's mouth hangs open, and I look at him, slamming the cup back on the bar. "How do you like me now?" I say.

"Just don't drink too much." Stan says back, taking a sip of his soda.

I look to Tyler. "Another."

Stan narrows his eyes. Regardless, Tyler takes my cup, refilling it and setting it down in front of me. I take it, gulping down a couple swigs before setting down the half-emptied mug. Stan stares at the fizzing liquid and looks up at me. "I think that should be your last one." he suggests.

"I'm eighteen, Stan." I say back. "I can do what I want." I find myself growing irritated. He just doesn't understand my situation. I have a lot of pressure on my shoulders, and he just keeps making it worse and adding more pounds every second of my life. If he was in my shoes, he'd be wanting something to make him forget as well. I know I shouldn't be drinking the pressure away, but it's not like this has happened before. He'll just have to lighten up. Besides, Stan use to get shit faced all the time in the beginning of High School. So he shouldn't be so hypocritical!

Stan's face does not look pleased with me. He picks up his drink, walking to the other side of the bar and to the pool tables. I finish mine before commanding my new found enemy to refill it and rush off after Stanley. He takes another sip before setting it down, preparing his pool stick. I take a long sip, wiping my mouth with my green sleeve. I lean against the pool table, watching as Stan hits a couple balls into the bags. I take another sip of my alcohol. Stan eyes me carefully before shooting again. "Wanna join?" he questions.

"I don't know how to play." I say.

"I'll teach you." Stan sighs. For as angry as he is, at least he's being nice.. I guess.

By the time he finishes explaining the game, I've already got my fourth glass. Stan readies my stick, chucking it at me. I nearly drop my glass trying to catch it. "Fuck, dude. Be careful." I hiss at him. He doesn't answer, waiting for me to take a shot. I do, missing the ball though. I hiss in out rage. Stan sighs. I shoot a glare at him. "Not everyone can be naturally talented at everything like you, Stan." I snarl. My voice cames out shaky, almost putting words together like one giant word. I sound drunk. Stan notes this, shaking his head and folding his arms. He gives me a pissed of look.

"I think we should leave." he suggests. It seems more of a command than a suggestion, though.

"I like it here." I answer. "Tyler! Another!" I hold my drink up.

Tyler looks at Stan as he dries off the inside of a mug, frowning at him. He agrees with Stan on this. Of course he does, he hates me! Stan takes hold of my lifted hand, trying to pull it back down. I don't let him pull it back down to my side. I jerk my hand away. But instead of pulling it closer to my own body, it strikes the side of Stan's head, the mug colliding against his skull. It pours all over the side of his jacket. He flashes an outraged look. I gasp, dropping the glass and listening to it crash to the floor. I ignore it though, ignoring Tyler rushing to the broken glass at once. He glances up at me with a hard glare. I ignore that as well, wiping off Stan's side with my hands. Stan grabs my hands, locking them in place at my sides.

"You're drunk, Kyle."

"No I'm not!" I glower. I squirm until Stan lets go of my arms. He stares at me. I can tell he's shocked by me behavior. "You're just pissed off because you can't drink anymore!"

Stan glares. "That's none of your business, Kyle."

"Don't be so hypocritical!" I snap. "You're just pissed off because you want to get drunk with Wendy like you use to all the god damn time!" Stan fumes. "You're just pissed off because you got a DUI. Just like your dad.."

"Shut up, Kyle!" Stan yells. "You don't know anything about that. Now just..." he inhales, holding the bridge of his nose. His voice lowers. "Just go home."

I stare at him. "I don't have a car." I think Stan might have thought I meant I was ridiculing him some more about his past. He doesn't answer, turning his back to me and going back to his game. Tyler is throwing the glass out, looking over his shoulder to watch. I look at Stan. "Fine. I'll see you back at the dorm. At least Peter understands me." I don't look back as I walk out the door, and back to the dorm.

I knock on the door to our room. It takes a couple times before Peter finally answers, opening the door. He rubs his eyes, glancing over his shoulder to the clock. "Kyle.. It's one in the morning!" he snaps. "What are you doing here so late? Where's Stan?"

"Stan's off being an asshole." I hiss, pushing in the door. Peter watches, shutting the door behind him. "We were at the local bar and he got all pissed off at me for no reason."

Peter folds his arms. He gives a look as if he just smelt something rank. "Are you drunk?"

"God, that's what he said!"

My room mate laughs at me, shaking his head. "I hope you don't show up to class drunk."

"Oh, shut up, Peter." I hiss at him. I sit down on the bed. He sits down next to me.

"So what exactly happened?"

"Idunno."

We both remained silent for a while. Nothing was running through my mind right now, or at least nothing that made sense. Peter looks to me. "So.. do you think if I kissed you right now, you wouldn't remember in the morning?"

"Idunno." I repeat. I glance at him. He's quiet for a while. I sit there in silence before leaning forward. Wait.. Kyle, what are you doing?! Our lips meet. At once, he sinks into it. He probably wishes I was even more smashed... He moves his hands to my back, caressing it gently. I don't even hesitate when I pull himself into a tight squeeze, shifting on the bed to face him more. He dominates, pushing me down gently and hovers over my body as we kiss. He pulls his hands to my chest, slowly moving down to the low of my stomach, his fingers curling around the bottom him of my jacket. He tugs on it and I lift my upper body, allowing him to remove it from my torso. He then works on my main shirt, yanking it off. I lie back down comfortably, feeling his hands rub gently against my chest. Then he removes them, fingers clumsily trying to unbutton my jeans. I jump slightly, pushing at his chest and removing our mouths from each other. "What are you doing?" I murmur, my voice hoarse.

"I thought..." Peter's face turns bright read. I stare at him for a while. My mind spirals, mixed emotions screaming in my head. I look back at him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I sigh. I lean up to him, repairing our kiss back together.

I walk down the cold sidewalk, hands stuffed in my pockets. I feel sick right now, all though I can feel my normal state of mind coming back. But I still feel as if I'm going to puke. I just got illegally drunk, and worst of all... I just cheated on Stan with Peter. I can't believe this is happening. The tables are turned. This time, Stan will be the one to tell me I should listen to him more often.

I see the familiar car drive by. It screeches to a halt. I watch, seeing the surprisingly concerned face of Stan stepping out of his recently parked car. "I was on my way back." he said. "I felt bad for just making you leave on your own like that."

I frown. "Don't feel bad for me." I say. "I don't.. deserve your sympathy."

Stan puts a hand on my shoulder. "I don't care. I'm sorry I freaked out. You were right. I'm still mad about that, I just don't want you to have to experience that."

I have to look away at this. This is like a picture perfect movie right now. The boyfriend acts all cute to his lover, not knowing that his lover just cheated on him with they're friend, and/or room mate. "Please, just stop." I murmur. "Don't act like I did nothing wrong. Because I did everything wrong." Stan goes to interrupt me, but I don't let him. "I got illegally drunk and pissed you off. I blurted out a bad part of your past in front of our peer. I insulted you. And I... I did something worse than that." I feel tears coming on. Stan sees this, trying to take me into a hug. I don't let him. "Stan, you don't get it!" I snap quickly. "You don't know what I did!"

Stan stares at me in shock. "Kyle.. what happened?"

I feel the tears roll now. "Stan." I look up at him. "We're through."

Stan's face immediately turns into a look of astonishment. He didn't expect that at all. It's for the best, and I can't tell him why. Or at least not yet. I don't want to hurt him even more. "W-Why? What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything." I whisper. "I just.. I can't tell you."

Stan stares at me. This is probably the first time I've ever seen him cry in a long time. I can't bare to look at his face. I don't think I've ever seen him this sad. "Kyle, please. Tonight was nothing! It was just a stupid fight!"

"No, Stan!" I snap. "You don't know what happened and I can't tell you! It'd just make things worse, and this would happen anyway."

"Then just tell me, god damn it!" Stan hisses. "I'd rather know why you're breaking my heart right now."

This causes my own heart to break to more pieces. "I... I can't. At least not now."

"Fuck, Kyle!" he barks. "Then when? When will you tell me?"

I don't know how to respond to that, because I don't even have the answer. He stares at me before finally looking away. "Stan.. I'm sorry." He doesn't say anything. He slams his eyes shut, low sobbing noises coming from his mouth. I can't bare to listen to it anymore. Granted, I back away. "I'm sorry, Stan. You'll understand soon, I promise." he doesn't say anything to me. I have nothing better to do but turn away and walk back to the dorm, leaving Stan with a crushed heart, and leaving myself to tend to my own wounds.

_**To be continued..**_

_--  
_The unexpected scene has happened, and I busted a gut while writing it. Yaaay, chapter threeeee. I had fun writing this, but at the same time, I think my friend was right when she said this fic would be better with my own characters. I'm getting pretty OOC, but I swear I'm not intending this. Originally, Kyle was going to stop Peter, but I decided this makes better drama. And of course, I didn't write out the 'scene'. That'd be too weird.. XD So you're stuck with this. I know you're probably wondering how Kyle even managed to get away with getting drunk. Tyler hates Kyle. So he'll love to see him get sent to jail, like I said.


	4. Holiday

**Chapter 4**

_Holiday_

It's been three months since I've actually had a conversation with Stan- since the break up. It's been tense between the two of us, and I know he wants nothing to do with me, or at least not now at least. I find in time that Stan will actually decide to forgive me for my harsh doing, but as of now, he only wants his space. I can't say I blame him. If I was him, I'd probably act the same way... But knowing my temper, I'd probably make sure he knew how I felt, by yelling at him whenever I got the chance. Stan.. Stan just remains quiet. He doesn't speak to me unless needed, he doesn't look at me unless needed. He basically has let this come between our friendship like I wished wouldn't happen. But it has. And alas, we're both left heart broken in this ordeal. Now it's the holidays and we're both going to be alone for them, and not to mention depressed. Well, we'll just have to suck it up.

The both of us are going to South Park for our holiday break. We're going back home. I never got a chance to ask Stan if I could accompany him on the long ride there, though. I'm honestly frightened to. I don't have big enough balls to ask him such a thing. Either way, he'd definitely say 'Hell no' in a heart beat. So now I have to take a bus, which will probably take a day longer. Oh well, I need some time to myself anyway. With Stan and Peter putting loads on my back, school pressure and everything else, I really need some quiet time to just me, myself and I. And this stupid bus ride will be perfect... I guess.

Stan and I both step out of the building at the same exact time, walking side by side to our rides, the bus parked in front of the building and his car parked in front of it, a couple other people packing their cars as well. We both stop when we reach our destination. The bus driver steps out of the vehicle, opening the luggage department. I shake my head to him. "Thanks, but I'll just keep them with me."

"If you say so, kid." With that, he walks back up the three steps and to his place on the bus. I remain standing there for a few moments, glancing over to Stan as he just finished loading his car. He wipes his palms against his pants, folding his arms and digging for his keys in his pocket. I gulp, giving an inhale.

"Stan?" He slowly lifts his head, looking at me.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say Happy Holidays." I give a weak smile. Stan returns it, giving a nod. He doesn't say anything though. He gets ready to step into his car, half sitting before I speak up again, causing him to stop and hold himself up as he looks over to me. "And Stan? I just... I hope we can get a clean start after the break. I really don't want us to lose our friendship, at least."

Stan stares at me, a blank expression plastered across his face. His cheeks are flustered pink, the cold weather nipping at both of us. Despite the chilly air, despite his recent emotions, he looks just as good as he usually does.. while I probably look like a complete mess that should be standing on street corners and pan handling for petty change, making my situations obvious. His eyes travel away for a second, wetting his lips before looking back to me. He gives a quick nod. His fake smile doesn't put my heart to ease. "Yeah." he answers. "I hope so too. Maybe things will go back to normal and we'll forget about all of this, and I can apologize to Wendy."

I suck in my lips, looking away. "Sure. Good luck, Stan."

Stan responds with his car door slamming, his engine revving with response to that. I stand there and watch as he begins to drive off. For a second, I see him glance in the rear view mirror and to me, but he quickly looks away. I turn away, stepping onto the warm bus, trying to collect and balance my emotions. I'm happy to be going home.

The sun greets me as I lazily open my eyes. There is no one else on the bus when I wake, just the bus driver. It takes me a minute to realize where we are; the local Bus Stop. The Bus Stop that Stan, Kenny, Cartman and I use to always hang out at in our earlier years before we could drive, and not only grow the balls to walk all the way there. I pick up my suitcase, stepping off the bus with a final good-bye nod to the driver. Once I step off, the bus' doors close, driving down the snowy road and back into the shady hills. I drop my suitcases, staring up at the sign that stands in front of me. A few doodles have been drawn in permanent red ink on the running man and his potential wife. I figure a few middle schoolers did it while I was gone. My next move makes me debate with myself for a few minutes, until I finally do it. Sheepishly, I step in my old spot. My old shoe spots have vanished, but the memories linger above my head. I lift my head, shutting my eyes and replaying scenes in my head. A small smile twitches on the corner of my lips as I remember it all, all the good times. The times before all of this stupid drama, all our crazy adventures that I guarantee half the world would never believe happened. I inhale, opening my eyes. When I do, it's like watching a movie. I see us all standing in our normal spots, talking casually. We're ten here. Stan and I talk and joke, just as friends. Best friends. Super best friends. Kenny.. Kenny is alive and well here. If only I had payed more attention to him when I had the chance. As for Cartman, he's just as I remember; a fat ass dickwod. We all look so innocent, a small group of best friends... besides fatty. Then I open my eyes, and it all disappears. Stan hates me. Kenny is dead. Fuck Cartman. As for me... I ruin every chance I have.

A hand is placed against my shoulder, causing me to gasp and swing around. My eyes meet the face of Clyde, who jumps as I swing around. I probably look like I'm ready to use self defense or something. Clyde blinks, both of us settling down. "Clyde?"

"Hey, Kyle." he greets, his voice just as stuffed up sounding as always. "Since Stan was back, I figured you came back to. Thought I'd come see you."

I rub the back of my neck. "That's pretty random."

"Yeah, well... We're all really sorry about that one day.." Memories strike me like a baseball. I gnaw on my bottom lip. I forgot about that.. I don't look forward to seeing Craig and Cartman anytime soon. "So. Thought I'd say welcome back."

I'm honestly a bit shocked. "Thanks." I say, giving a confused expression. "So. How is everyone?"

"Pretty good." the brunette says with a shrug, scratching the bridge of his nose. "Token went to California for college."

"California? Wow. What college?"

"Probably the most expensive."

I laugh. "Probably... What about Eric? Where's he?"

"Still here." Just my luck. "I'm going to college soon, myself."

"Really?" I give a smile. "Good for you, Clyde."

"Thanks." he replies with a nod. "I'm nervous.. it's going to be hard to do alone. You're lucky you have Stan."

I frown. You don't even know the half of it. "Yeah."

After a few moments of small talk, Clyde actually says something more useful. "So all of us that haven't left yet are going to have a party soon. A Christmas party I guess. Celebrating a mixture of the holidays and I guess seeing each other before we all ship off to our futures. You're invited."

I blink before giving a smile. "All right, cool. Where is it?"

"Stan actually offered his house."

"...Really? I thought he just got here. How did he plan it so quickly?"

"Well. Butters called him a week ago or something to tell him about it." I nod as the information is given. "He offered his house." I ignore the fact no one bothered to call me.

"Well, that's cool. I'll try to make it."

"Cool." we fall silent, before Clyde finally decides to bid good-bye. I say good-bye as well, pick up my luggage and decide to head home. I'm honestly not looking forward to that party. Maybe I'll get lucky and catch a cold... or a fatal disease. Who knows, with my luck.

"Ma?"

I open the door just a bit, peeking into the dark house. I shove my key ring back into my pockets, opening the door even more and flipping the light on. "SURPRISE!!" I jump in shock, choking back the yelp that tried to come out. My mom, dad and little brother all come up to me, giving me a hug. I blink, utterly confused.

"Uh.. What's going on?" I ask. "What's the occasion?"

"Oh bubby," my mom says, all of them pulling away. "The occasion is you being home."

"It was my idea." Ike is grinning. I smile at him, ruffling his hair. He growls at me to quit it, so I do. His messy hair doesn't look any different from before the weak noogie-like gesture.

"Yes, it was all your idea, Ike." my dad speaks up.

Ike rolls his eyes. "I helped."

"And we're very proud of you, bubby." my mom says. She looks back at me. "Now get yourself out of the cold, Kyle, you going to catch a cold." Oh mom, you must hate me. Because I want to catch a cold. I step away from the door, allowing her to shut the door. I pull my jacket off, hanging it up on the coat rack and pulling my hat off, adding that to the rack as well. "Your room is just as you left it. I was just starting dinner."

"All right. Thanks." I give a warm smile to them before heading up the stairs. I walk a few steps down the hallway and open my door. When I turn around to shut the door, I stop, seeing Ike. I blink. "What is it?"

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How's college?"

I narrow my eyes. "What kind of eleven year old pain in the ass cares?"

Ike narrows his eyes, folding his arms. "I care!"

"Mhm."

"Don't be such a jerk, Kyle."

"Don't be such a pain, now leave me alone."

"You just got here!" Ike squeaks.

"Yeah," I agree. "And you're already getting on my nerves."

"You don't mean that."

I fake sigh. "You know me so well." Ike glares at me, sticking his tongue out. Wow. I lift my leg up, looking as if I'm about to kick a foot ball. "Ready, Ike?" Ike's eyes slam wide.

"You wouldn't."

"Kick the baby!"

"AGH!" With that, Ike goes running down the hall and out of reach of my foot. Given, I slam my door shut.

"Pest." I hiss. I know it's wrong of me to be so mean to my brother when I haven't been home for a couple of months, but whatever... he's annoying. He probably misses my torture.

I turn around, after locking the door of course. I stare at my room. Just as I remember it. I walk forward, jumping on my bed and grasping my pillows, hugging them. I breath into the pillow, breathing in the scent that lingers on them. They smell like... Stan. I blink, pulling away from the pillow and staring at it. Thanks for cleaning my sheets, mom, geeze... I shrug, leaning into the pillow again and breathing it in some more. I soak up as much scent as I can. I know why it smells like him too, which makes it- well.. it makes it worse. Because I don't want to think about Stan and whatever memories I have with him right now. I want to forget about him while I have time to myself and my family. I don't want to spend my time back home just thinking about our angst. But I can't. I can't help thinking about it.

I hit my bed, Stan's arms wrapped around me. "Get the fuck off, Stan!" I yelp, trying to push him from me. He tightens his grip. "Stan.. Really. I'm not in the mood for your games."

"Who says I'm playing?" he coos.

I narrow my eyes. "You are, now get off! We need to finish our project."

"Mmm, yes. We need to finish our project."

I growl. "You're not funny."

"I beg to differ." I scowl at him, pushing him off of me, allowing him to hit the other side of the bed. Stan sighs, rolling on his side and staring at me with a scowl of his own. "You're so fucking stubborn, dude. I know you want to."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"I don't feel like making out with you, I said I'm not in the mood." Stan pushes his bottom lip out. My eyes narrow even more. "No."

"Don't make me go to drastic measures."

I roll my eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"This!" Instantly, Stan jumps back onto me, sitting against my pelvis and holding my arms down, our fingers laced together, whether I like it or not. I gape in shock, my expression hardening to a look of anger and displeasure. "How about now?"

"God damn it, Stan."

Stan leans in, giving me no space to myself. He presses his lips against my jaw line. "Well?" he mutters as he remains gently caressing my jaw with his mouth. I shutter.

"No. We have more important things to do."

"This is important."

"No, it's not."

Stan doesn't listen. He lifts his mouth a bit, kissing my cheek, the corner of my mouth and then reaching my lips. He kisses me gently, and, after a while, he slowly pulls one of his hands away from mine, gently resting it against my neck. I allow this, deciding to cave in. So he's right, I do want to kiss him. But.. he didn't need to know. We continue to gently kiss, allowing my own free hand to lift up and gently rub against his own neck. He finally releases my other hand, pulling his own to my jaw line. He slips them down to my chest as he pulls away from my mouth. I find myself trying to find his lips again, but I fail, feeling his warm caress against my jaw. I shutter beneath him, the sensation of his touch buzzing through out my entire body, heating my cheeks up at once. He kisses against my jaw and neck smoothly and caring, showing his affection in a gentle manner. He begins to move down some more, trying to get as much skin on my neck as he can,despite the fact my jacket and shirt block him from going any farther. Once we note this, he begins to unbutton my jacket, causing me to sit up and help pull it from my arms. He tosses it to the side, quickly yanking up my shirt and removing it from my torso. He takes in my nearly half-naked appearance before going in, his parted lips pecking my collar bone. Goose bumps instantly run up my arms, causing me to tremble. His hands rub against the muscles on my stomach, lowing beneath my belly button and tickling my hips. I grin at him, trying not to move too much under his playful teasing. He lifts his mouth back to my own, our tongues twisting with each other once again. "Kyle." he mutters after pulling from the kiss softly. "I love you."

I smile at him. "I love you too, Stan."

"Kyle? Kyle!"

I jolt, eyes slamming open. My dad hovers above me, withdrawing as I sit up. I rub my eyes. How long have I been asleep? I guess picturing that scene all over again caused me to fall asleep. "Yeah?"

"Clyde just called." Shit, forgot about that. I put a hand to my forehead. Great, no fever.

"Oh.. right. I'm suppose to go to a Christmas party."

"Are you going?"

I rub my neck, giving a small sigh. "Um... yeah. Yeah."

Garold nods, stepping out of the room and allowing me to freshen up. I walk into the closet, pulling out some clothes that I left behind. Skinny jeans, a black shirt and a green jacket. Since it's the only thing to really wear, I slip it on. I take only a few seconds to fix my hair. I never really do anything to it, I always leave it in a mess. My hair is too god damn stubborn even if I did want to do anything to it. But whatever, I'll probably say hi to everyone and get the hell out. I sigh, walking downstairs. My father is in the living room, taking a small sip of his coffee. I go to the door, only to be stopped. "Kyle, wait."

Given, I turn. "Yeah?-" I'm cut off by having to catch my dad's keys. I blink. "What's this?"

"You can take my car."

I snort. "Dad, it's only a couple houses down."

"Eh." he shrugs. "In case you decide to go out a little bit longer."

I stare at the keys, fiddling with them. I nod, giving a smile to him. "Thanks, dad. It's appreciated." He nods as well. "See ya."

"Have a good time."

"I'll try." I murmur, heading out the door now.

When I pull up, music is blearing inside of Stan's house; particularly the middle of Keep It Simple by Cobra Starship. As I can see, his parents must be out for the night. I wonder if they even know about this. I park my car on the curb, at least two more cars parked as well. I step out, jamming the keys into my pocket. I walk up to the door, but once my fist is about to hit the door, it opens, causing me to jump. Craig's face greets me. "Kyyyyle!"

I try to hide back my amusement by how drunk he appears. "Hey, Craig."

"Come on in, buddyyyyy." I do, Craig slamming the door, probably by accident. "Y'know, I'm like.. really really sorry about that one day. If you forgave me, I'd be sooo happy."

"I bet you would." I respond lowly. I know Craig didn't hear that though, for the music is nearly deafening. I guarantee the cops are on the way to shut everyone up. I recognize every single face I pass, greeting them and catching up for a few seconds before moving on. I've seen nearly everyone, besides one person. Which I'm honestly thankful for. Soon enough, I find myself feeling a big claustrophobic, thus, I head to the kitchen, the nearest empty room. I swing the door open, looking over my shoulder as I step in. I gently shut the door behind me, looking forward. I come to a stop. I see Stan on the phone outside through the window above the sink. He takes a small sip from his red plastic cup before nearly looking like he's about to drop it. His back now faces me, swinging his hand around, despite the cup that is grasped with it, like he's arguing with someone. I sigh, pushing away from the door and going to the counter, stacks of disposable cups and soda inhabiting it, and, of course, Craig's secret stash of alcohol. I pull a cup from the stack, opening a new liter of Mountain Dew. I pull half a cup, taking a large sip before having to re-pour it. I didn't notice how parched I was. I lean my back side against the counter, folding my arms across my chest while holding the cup, taking a small sip. I look over the room, soaking in the feeling of being back. It feels good to be back in South Park. Surprising, huh?

"Kyle?" I turn my head, Stan just shutting his phone as he shuts the door. I slowly look away, taking a large sip from my cup. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited." I mutter, the cup still attached to my lips. I lower it, looking into the cup and watching the strangely colored liquid. "Why? Should I leave?"

"...No. You can stay, I guess. I mean.. if you really want to." I look back up, only to see him standing close to me now, repouring his own cup of Coke. He turns to me, tapping against the rim. "Just.. wasn't really expecting it."

"Can't say I blame you." I admit. "Thought you'd get a break from me, huh?"

The corner of Stan's mouth twitches slightly, trying not to smile as he looks down. "Yeah."

"So blunt."

"Like you said." Stan begins as he looks back up to me. This time he allows a small smile. "I'm not one to lie. Especially to you." I smile back at him. Once I do, his disappears though. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, dude." I take a small sip before setting it down. He mimics me, placing his hands on his hips and staring. I gnaw on my lip, honestly frightened of what he has to ask.

He moves one of his hands to the back of his neck. "Uh... What.. what happened that night?"

I try not to recoil. "What night?"

"You know."

"..Oh. That night." I rub my forehead, looking away from him. He shakes his head, holding the bridge of his nose now.

"I know it's not something you want to answer, but I need to know." I glance back up at him. He removes his hands. "It'll... help me."

"It'll do the complete opposite."

"Is it really that bad?"

"Terrible."

Stan grimaces. "Kyle... I.. I need to know. Please dude, just tell me."

I gulp down the hard lump in my throat. "This already ruined our relationship. I won't let it ruin our friendship."

"Like our fucking friendship is doing so good right now."

As much as it hurts, he's completely right. We've hardly talked for what, three months? "I'll tell you." he doesn't light up like I expected. I know he's ready for the impact. He doesn't want to look happy and give his hopes up. He wants to believe it's nothing big, but he'll only be proven wrong. "But I know it'll effect us... A lot. And I mean a lot. And you'll get really mad.. and... upset. And... please. Please. Don't stay mad."

Stan hesitates before shaking his head. "I can't promise that."

"Fine. Fine." I sigh, shaking my hands at my side, trying to loosen up the tension in my body. Stan folds his arms, staring at the counter as he waits for me to say it. "I uh... I said a lot of things that hurt you. I know it's not easy to forgive me for that. And I know this'll be even worse. And I know.. you probably never will, and we'll probably never speak again. I know. I know. It's been so hard.. I can't look at you with out thinking about it and wanting to just sit in a corner and die." Stan bites his lip. I can sense he's growing worried by every word that slips from my mouth. I fall silent, gulping again as I stare at him. Looking him straight in the eyes, I let it go. "I slept with Peter that night."

I can tell Stan doesn't know what to do. He remains silent for what seemed like hours, but was really seconds. His stare finally breaks, looking away. He's trying to process it. He probably thinks he heard wrong. I can tell. I know how Stan works, he's trying to prove me wrong. He's trying to prove me wrong as hard as he can, but he knows that I'm telling the truth. He knows that what I said is what I meant. And once he does process that knowledge, he looks back at me. His eyes are red and puffy, causing my entire body to tense. Despite what I just confessed, he doesn't say anything. He simply walks passed me in complete, and ear splitting silence. I hear his foot steps stop at the door though. I don't look. I don't want to. "Kyle." I shut my eyes, waiting for the worst. "Get out of my house."

I'm left alone in the kitchen now. I open my eyes, and to my surprise, I'm not crying. Or at least not yet. I step into his backyard, greeted by rain. I walk to the front yard, making my way to my car. My fingers fumble with they keys, cursing to myself. I finally find the correct key, jamming it in with force and twisting, opening the door. I sit down, throwing the keys fiercely at the passenger seat and slamming the door. I place my hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly as I stare forward. I try to hold myself together, but I eventually break down, hitting my forehead against the top of the steering wheel. I let my eyes go, opening my mouth to let my sobs out. I try to clear my mind.

"God damn it Broflovski, get a fucking grip!" I whisper to myself. "So you lost your fucking best friend, you can survive with out him." I shake my head, as if disagreeing with my own words. But I am. I know I won't make it so easy with out Stan. I know it'll all be so hard with out my best friend and not only my boyfriend. I ruined the one thing that I had perfect in my life. What have I done?

_**To be continued..**_

_--  
_Yay, drama just keeps happening, I torture Kyle! I'm super happy to finally be able to write them back in South Park and with everyone. It's a lot easier to write. And funner. I have a couple things planned in the next chapter, but I honestly don't know what the hell is gonna happen. From now on, I should plan out my chapters.. and probably not tell you that I haven't figured it out 8 Heheh...

I totally cheated at one point. I wrote a one shot for Stan and Kyle, which I will never post unless I want to get embaressed and put to shame. I copy and pasted the StanxKyle kissing memory scene because I was too lazy to try to rewrite it. And no, they did not get they're sexy time on. They had a hardcore make out session. You horny dogs ):... Well. At least not in this fic. Yet? -OMGSH SHOT- Joyce knows exactly what I'm talking about.


	5. Vengence

**Chapter 5**

I stumble from my fathers car, regaining balance as I try not to slip on the mudy and slippery road. I slam the door behind me, making my way on the familliar sidewalk of the cemetary. I know exactly where I'm going. I don't need to read the tombstones to find the one I'm looking far. And once I do, I stop straight in my tracks. I give a loud inhale, soon to breath it out the cold air. I walk over to it, staring at the grave with a blank expression. "Kenny." I say with a sigh. I collapse on my knees, eye level with carved name now. The rain washes away my tears, my hair a flat mess at the top of my head, sticking to my forehead. All though the glued strands irritate me, I don't bother to move them. I'm hypnotized, staring at the grave. I've been here many times. The funeral, the few visits, his birthday, before I left. But this time... this time feels so much worse. Sure, it'll never beat the funeral, but now more than ever, the time I really need my best friend, I can't see him. He can't sit down with me and talk it over. He can't give me a soothing smile that helps set me at ease. I just have to stare back at his grave with no possible chance of talking to him. So here I am. Sitting here a lone in the pouring rain and mourning over the death of my friend and the loss of another. I know it's not Kenny's fault for dying, but I can't help but be so mad right now. He left me. He's gone from me forever. My best friend is gone from me forever, and it's just now hitting me. Okay. This beats the funeral. This officially is worse than the day that we all got together and mourned. Because this time I'm not in denial. I know he's dead and I know he will _never_ come back to me. I know I'll never have the same friendship with anyone else. No one else is like Kenny.  
A sudden rip of anger churns in my stomach. This is all Cartman's fault. If he didn't push Kenny, Kenny never would have died. Not only that, but he didn't even bother to help him out! He just let him die. He watched... he practically murdered Kenny!  
Now I'm completely pissed off. I have to find Cartman, I _have_ to. This sets me back to my car. I rev the engine to life. The tires screech against the assfault, jumping forward and racing down the street. My first thought is to go to his house. And if he isn't there, I'll go to the party and ask everyone if they know where he is. I can't tell if I'm thinking straight or not. I'm planning everything out, but everything leads to killing Eric... well, not literally, but maybe potentionally. The bastard deserves to die! He killed an innocent human being. He deserves it. My hands grip the steering wheel, trying to form into hard fists by habit of growing angry. My teeth clench, eyes narrowing, only to slam open once I reach his house. With a rush of adrenalin, I pull myself from the car, not bothering to shut the door behind me. I run up to his doorstep, roughly banging on the door. I wait a couple seconds before asking again. No answer. I glance to the side. His moms car is still there. I side step to peek through one of the windows. It's too dark for me to see. "Damn it!" I shout angrily, heading back to my car. Once I get in, ignoring the fact the seat is soaked by now, I head back to Stan's house. It only takes me a couple seconds. I get out just as quickly, this time remembering to shut the door. I don't bother to knock on the door this time, opening it and barging right in.I fight throught the dancing crowd, looking around for someone that could possibly know where he is. My eye catches Butters. They tend to hang out som times, believe it or not. I walk up to him, grabbing his shoulder and swinging him around. He has a stunned look on his face until it melts away to a smile.  
"Oh, hey, Kyle." he greets.

"Where's Cartman?"  
"He was here earlier."  
"He was?" I'm a bit surprised. "Where is he now?"  
"Him and a few fellas went out." Butters responds. "What's wrong?"  
"Nothing." I turn around, walking past him. He trails behind me, even out to my car. "Are you going to keep following me?" I hiss.  
"Well, yeah!" Butters says back. "I don't wancha getting yourself hurt."  
"I'm not going to." Cartman can't _touch _me. His fat arms are too short. "Now tell me where they went and then leave me alone." I add as I turn to him.  
"I think they went to the Gas Station."  
"All right, thanks." I turn back around, walking the small distance to my car and opening the door.  
"Kyle?"  
"What?"  
"Can I come with you? I don't like it here. I'm the only.. uh... sober one." he says sheepishly, fiddling with his hands.  
I stare at him. Ugh. "Fine, if it'll shut you up."  
Butters smiles, stepping into the passenger seat. Despite the fact there's a passenger, I drive just as violently. Butters tells me to slow down a few times, but I don't listen to him. I'm surprised I even heard him I'm so deep into my own thoughts. By the time I reach the gas station, the rain has stopped. I look through the window. There he is, feeling up his gas tank. I can see a few figures in the seats, but I can't make out who. I don't give a shit, though. I pull up to the gas station, the tires screeching to a stop. Cartman looks up just as I step out.  
"Oh there you are, jew."  
I don't answer to that. I march straight to him, and once I reach him, I take hold of his collar, lifitng my free fist and socking him straight in the cheek. Air pours from out of his mouth. I lay another punch at him. It successfully hits him, but I get distracted and let his shirt slip from my grasp. Jimmy, Tweek, Craig and Stan step from the car. Craig is smiling like a retard, Jimmy watching in curiosity, and Tweek murmuring a few things under his breath to Craig. As for Stan, he's stomping right to me. His face is a settled glare. I watch him come straight to me. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he barks.  
"What does it look like?!" I snap in response.  
"I know Cartman is a bastard, but don't take out your god damn problems out on him, you jack ass." Stan has never talked to me like that. It causes my mouth to hang open.  
I close my mouth, gulping down a hard lump. "I went to see Kenny just now, and it helped set my head straight. It's Cartman's fault Kenny died!"  
"He didn't know Kenny got stuck, Kyle."  
"He pushed him in ,Stan!" I shout. "He pushed him in and Kenny drowned. Why the hell didn't he help once he noticed Kenny was down there for way too long, huh?" this time I look at Eric. "Why the hell not?"  
"I didn't know jew, get a grip of yourself." he yells back.  
"Yes you did! You did it on purpose! You killed him!" I launch forward again, tackling him to the ground. I try to throw punches at him, but Stan grabs my fists before I can hit him, yanking me back. I struggle, nearly falling on my ass. I arch my back, trying to pick myself up as Stan locks my hands behind my back. "Let go of me, Stan! The bastard deserves it!"  
"Shut up, Kyle!" Stan shouts. "You're going crazy, dude!"  
"Why shouldn't I?!" I snap back. Stan finally lets go of me. I turn back to him, hunched over slightly. I ignore comments being made by Butters and the others. I stare at Stan, glaring.  
"I don't know, Kyle. Why should you be going crazy right now?" he remarks. "Because you're a lying back stabber?"  
"I'm not." I hiss. "Cartman is. He killed my best friend." Stan doesn't respond. I know he has nothing to say to that. "Stan.. he killed my best friend. He killed him... he did it on purpose." A tear falls from my chin. Stan's face slowly turns into a frown, watching as I weep over my lost friend. He takes a small step forward, but I break the distance quickly, grabbing him and pulling him into a hug. He doesn't know what to do. "He's dead. I'll never get him back." Stan hesitates. Finally, he slowly puts a hand against the back of my head in a soothing manner.

"Kyle.." he whispers. "Calm down. It's okay."  
"Its not. Nothing is okay." I murmur. "I lost my best friend, the love of my life-" he tenses at that, obviously. "I slept with someone I hardly know." Cartman oo's at this. I hear Stan tell him to shut up. "Stan, I messed everything up. I had something going for me, and then I ruined it. It's all of my fault whats going on with us right now. More than ever I need Kenny and he's not even here."  
Stan sighs, not answering. We remain there for a while before I hear Stan whisper to Jimmy about leaving with the others. Then he's silent. The only thing I hear is them all getting into the car, Cartman's low cursing and they're gossiping. Then they're gone, finally. I still hold onto Stan though, not wanting to let him go. "Kyle. I'll take you home." he drops his hand, placing it on my shoulder and pulling me out of the embrace.  
I stare at him. "Fine." I murmur. He lets go of me, both of us walking to the car. He walks me to the passenger seat, gesturing for me to sit down. I sigh, doing so. He jogs to the other side, taking his seat in the sopping wet driving seat. I didn't bother to turn the car off, so he instantly starts driving. We drive down the road in silence, Stan staring blankly out the wind shield. Meanwhile, I sit stare out the window, staring at the hills that sit next to us. I gulp, slowly turning my head to him. "I'm sorry." Stan gives a simple sigh in response. I grimace. "Stan? Did you hear me?"  
"I heard you." he says.  
"Oh.. well... I really am."  
"Tell me what you're sorry about, Kyle." Stan says back, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Because there sure as hell is a lot of you to be sorry for."  
"I know that, Stan." I find myself snapping this at him. Thus, I try calming myself down, looking forward and sloutching in the seat, folding my arms. "I'm sorry for everything." I begin after a moment of silence. "I'm sorry for breaking up with you and not telling you why. I'm sorry for taking out my anger on Cartman." All though the ass wipe deserved it. I glance at him now. "And most of all, I'm sorry for cheating on you."  
By the time I finished my sentence, we were already at my house. We pull up in the drive way, Stan pulling the keys from the ignition and setting his hands to the side, staring at forward. He glances down now, pulling his gloves off and chucking them on his lap. I can tell his emotions have changed much since I first told him. "You can say sorry as much as you want." he looks at me. "But it won't change shit." With that, Stan opens the door, slipping out of the car. I quickly do the same thing, trying to chase after him. Once I reach the other side of the car, Stan is already on the side walk. But he stops, turning on his heel and chucking the keys at me. He goes to turn around, but I run to him, grabbing his shoulder. He quickly turns back around, yanking his shoulder away, giving a hard glare. "Don't. Touch. Me." he hisses bitterly.  
"Stan, please. I-I didn'tknow what I was doing. I was _drunk_."  
"Yeah, which is your fucking fault!" he shouts, jabbing his index finger into the middle of my chest. Then his hands fly out at either said, showing his anger. "I even warned you! I told you to take it easy, but you didn't listen, did you?! No! You got yourself junk, embaressed me and then made the whole god damn thing worse and had sex with someone you don't even know. Damn Kyle, I think you can consider yourself a charitable whore!"  
My mouth hangs open. "What did you just call me?!"  
"A charitable whore." he says angrily.  
We both glare at each other in silence until my face softens. "Admit it, Stan. You want to forgive me."  
"Even if I did, it's not like I'm going to, let a lone will."  
"You really missed me those three months."  
"No. I missed the _old _Kyle." he says back.  
"The old Kyle?"  
"Yeah. The Kyle I know. The Kyle that wouldn't do shit like this. The not so sappy Kyle that wouldn't get drunk and spill his best friends secrets, and of course sleep with some guy that hardly knows you."  
"Well that's fine." I mutter. "Maybe we were better off friends."  
"Maybe we were better off strangers."  
My glare returns. "You don't mean that."  
He looks me straight in the eyes. "I mean every word."


	6. Apologies

For a second, my glare remains, giving a cover up of not knowing how to react to this. Slowly, my expression fades into a look of denial. I shake my head slowly. "You're lying." Stan doesn't respond, staring at me. I narrow my eyes looking away. "You know you don't mean that."  
"Were you not listening to me?" Stan snaps. I look back up to him, my hands fisting at either side. This is like starting all over again; like the first time I told him my secret. He's acting so heartless again. It's not like Stan to act like this. I guess I deserve it. But the last time I really saw Stan act like this was when I told him. And after the whole out burst, I found out the entire time he was lying to me. Maybe.. Maybe I need to prove him wrong once and for all. I remove the space from us, shoving forward and holding his wrists down at his sides. He jumps at once, trying to pull my hands from his wrists, but I disallow it, leaning in and our lips meeting. My heat just a back flip at once. It had been such a long time since we kissed, it felt so good to do it again. But I can tell Stan doesn't feel the same way as he snarls beneath my hold, fuming from furiosity. He yanks his head back as I decide to remove my hands, backing away. Stan doesn't bother to shoot a glare of out rage, he simply turns on his heel once he got the chance and stormed down the side walk. I turn my head, staring at the door. I let out a loud sigh.  
"Smart move, Kyle." I breath. "You just made it hell of a lot worse."

I gaze aimlessly at the ceiling above me, the shadow of the rain splattered window reflecting against it. It's currenlty five in the morning and there is no chance of me sleeping right now. Despite my exhuastion, I can't fall asleep. A sigh escapes my mouth as I roll over onto my side, staring blankly at the empty space next to my bed. I try not to think about him. _That's where he would sleep._ I think to myself. _God, Kyle! Shut up, thinking about it will make it worse!_ I groan, flipping around and burrying my face into my pillow. What the hell am I going to do? He might as well of died, because not only is my heart as broken as it would be if he was completelty gone like so, I highly doubt I'll ever speak, let a lone see him again. The only thing to do is hope for the impossible; Stan will forgive me. The sad thing is, it's not even likely for him to forgive me at my own funeral. What makes me think he'll forgive me when I'm breathing? I guess I just have to try my best to prove to Stan that I _am_ sorry. That I want to take our relationship seriously. But what can I do? He's at home right now and probably dreaming of my death. Great.

I walk lazily downstairs, dragging my feet to the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs fill my nostrils, the sound of food sizzling ringing in my ears. I take a seat at the table, accompanying my father and brother. Ike nibbles on a piece of toast, looking over his homework which was probably commanded by my mother. My father's nose is glued to the newspaper, removed every now and then to take a sip from his mug. I glanced over to my mom. "Any plans for today, ma?"  
"Not really, bubby." she responds, turning around and making a plate for me. I watch as she sets the scrambled eggs and bacon onto my plate. "Why? Did you want to go hang out with your friends?"  
"No." I say. "I thought I'd just spend the day with you guys."  
"Oh, well that would be lovely, Kyle." she says with an honest grin, turning back around after filling everyones plates and setting the left overs on the counter. She takes a seat next to my dad, Ike already digging into his food at once.  
"I was thinking we'd go to the mall and do some shopping for Hannikah." my father announces.  
"That would be nice."  
I nod, chewing on egg. "Sounds fine to me."  
"I can take Ike to school and then we can go."  
Ike looks up at once. "What? But I want to go with you!"  
"Ike, you are going to school." she says. "It's your last day before you start your vacation."  
Ike groans in response. "Okay. Fine."  
I snort. "You just want to see what we get you."  
"Yeah."  
"Not like it'll matter." I say. "It's the same thing you get every year. Football or a dreidal."  
Ike gives a little titter, knowing this is correct.

We walk into the building, the place packed. My mother drags us to a couple of stores, picking up a few things here and there and moving onto the next store. Everytime she says "Oh, I need to go here!" my father and I give a loud groan, showing our displeasure of having to shop. But finally, she allows us to take a seat on the bench, both of us dropping the bags and plopping down onto the seat, heads rolling back and legs stretched out. Sheila growls, folding her arms. "You can't be the exhuasted."  
"Shopping with you does this."  
"Shopping with any girl." I correct.  
"I did not raise my child to be sexist." she sneers. I look at her.  
"I'm not sexist." I add in. "It's only fact."  
My mom scowls. She decides to change the subject. "Kyle, here's some money. You can go and buy Stanley and your little friends something."  
I never would have thought my mom would be telling me to go buy my friends a present. Kind of... weird. "No thanks."  
"What, what, what?" she blinks. "Why not?"  
"Kind of weird." I remark. "We all celebrate a completely different holiday. And I can't exactly buy them a present with out them laughing at me."  
"Why would they laugh at you?" she gives a glare, turning into 'Bitch-Mother-Start-War' mode.  
I roll my eyes. "Because they'll either pick on me for giving them a Hannikah present, pick on me for trying to give them a Christmas present, or pick on me and reminding me how cheap my family is." I prop my elbows up on the top of the bench.  
My dad leans to me. "Just do it, it'll get her off your back. Besides, you're going to make her start another war, do you really want that?" With that, I quickly accept the money that is in my moms out stretched hand and scamper off before she can argue. I lift a hand as a thanks and quickly scramble away before she can change her mind. I can hear my mom's voice though, asking him what he meant by 'starting a war' and all of that. She's trying to tell him she's never done that before. Bah.  
I continue through the mall, window shopping with the money shoved in my pocket. I stop once I find _Juice It Up. _I pull the money my mom gave me and blow some money on a strawberry smoothie. I don't hesitate to take a stop at _Wetzal Pretzal_, either, blowing some more money that was suppose to be for my friends. I take a seat at a bench by myself, pulling off a large peice of the pretzal and shoving it in my mouth. I lift my legs, folding them on the bench. Who am I going to get a present anyway? I don't really hang out with any of the guys enough to consider trying to get them a gift for the holidays. But whatever. My mom doesn't have to know that I blew the money on food. I can just walk home with out her knowing, and when she gets home herself, simply say that I had already given them the gift. Simple as that. Well, now that I have that sorted, and now that I'm bored as hell, I think I'll get going now. I pick up whats left of my pretzal, which is just the wrapper since I took such huge bites like what Cartman does, and toss it into the trash. I take a large sip from my smoothie, gulp it down and take another before tossing it away as well. But just as I do this, I nearly run into Wendy as I turn around. "Ah, sorry."  
"It's okay." she responds. "I saw you over here and thought I'd say hi." she gives a friendly smile.  
I glance down at the numerous bags she has a grip on, then back up to her. "Hi back." I say. "I see your Christmas shopping?"  
Wendy nods. "Lucky me, majority of South Park is going to wait until the last minute."  
I give a small laugh. "You're probably the only one that doesn't."  
"Probably." She changes the topic. "So, I heard you and Eric got in a fight last night."  
Yeah, you just dropped by to say 'hello'. "Well you heard wrong." I turn away, beginning to walk towards the exit. Thankfully, Wendy is more polite and decides not to follow me and beg me to give details. Great, Cartman and the other dickwods probably went around and told everyone.

It didn't take me long to decide to go see Stan, wether he likes it or not. I wanna give apologizing another shot and at least have a civilized talk with him. Maybe, if I'm lucky, he's calmed down... and maybe a monkey will fly out of my ass. Regardless, I need to try.  
Sharon lets me into the house with a surprised stare. As I can see, Stan didn't bother to keep our little problem hush hush. As I walk up the steps, I hear the faint buzzing of an acoustic guitar. I walk to Stan's bedroom door, giving a sigh and quietly cracking it opening peeking in. He doesn't hear or see me, which is good. I want to have a chance to actually listen to him play the guitar for a little bit. He stops for a seond, jotting down some notes and then continueing the guitar. As the rythm picks up a little bit, he opens his mouth; "Feel as tears roll down my face. Walk a way a slow, slow pace. Hang your head and pass on by..." he pauses, thinking of the next lyric. "I know you have no aliby." I bite my lip. He's writing a song based on some shit relationship he had and someone had cheated on him. He's writing a song about us. Oh, great. That's a big 10/10 in the hurt department. Even better, he continues: "Hold my head between your hands, tell me 'Our love was true, I didn't mean to'... Well I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But I see right through you." he jots the lyrics down. Appearently, he's liking it. Stan clears his throat, strumming gently at the guitar. As I can see, he's starting over and replaying what he had just come up with. He stops as he finishes the chorus, glancing over at me. The final chord buzzes as he plucks it angrily. I open the door some more, sliding in. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snaps.  
I shut the door, and I can tell he's not pleased by this action. Granted, he stands up, setting his instrument on his bed and placing his hands on his hips. I stare at him sheepishly. "I wanted to give apologizing another shot."  
"Oh, you didn't think you did a great job the other night?"  
I gnaw on my lip some more. "Hear me out, Stan! I didn't know what I was doing-"  
"You knew exactly what you were doing!" he snarls. "How can you stand here and lie to my face?"  
"I'm not!"  
"Just leave me a lone, Kyle, I don't want to see you again!"  
I grimace, looking away. "You were nice to me last night at the gas station... You know you don't want to stay so mad at me. You know you want us to be friends again. Or even more." I look up at him. "You know you still love me, as a friend, or as more. Regardless, you know you love me. But you don't want to, so you're trying to stay mad at me."  
Stan glares. "Well you're wrong. The only reason I was nice to you was because you were crying over Kenny. And I'm not going to be an asshole when you're like that." His voice isn't intimidating when he says that, and his glare vanished right when he said 'The only reason'. He looks weak now. Actually more sad than angry.  
"Why not?"  
"I don't know..." he sighs, sitting down and staring at the floor. I want to inch forward and sit with him, but I know he'll either tell me to leave or push me off instead. "I guess I just feel the same way about it. And I wouldn't want anyone to just ignore me in my time of need."  
I give a half smile. "It's good to know someone agrees with me."  
He looks up at me. "Don't make much of it." Stan quickly says. "That doesn't change anything. Just because I was a bit nice to you for a couple of minutes doesn't mean I forgave you." I can clearly see that. "Especially since you thought kissing me would make things better."  
"I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up." I groan, holding my arms.  
"Why the hell did you think that'd be okay? Let a lone all of it!"  
I quickly drop my hands against my hips, holding them there. "One, I don't think any of this okay. I got drunk like a complete retard and did something insanely stupid."  
"I agree with that."  
"Ignoring your comment... Two, I didn't think kissing you in the middle of a fight would be good either. I guess-"

"You just couldn't resist?"  
"Y-Yeah." I stutter.  
Stan gives a loud laugh, rolling his eyes. "Since when did you turn into such a gaywod sap?"  
I fume. "Since you let my whole liking you thing get in the way of our friendship."  
"Woa, woa." he snaps, holding his hands up as a 'Slow down!' motion. "I was shocked at first. You didn't exactly prepare me for it."  
"Well what was I suppose to do, just say: "Well, Stan. Before I tell you about my huge crush on you since I was twelve, I want you to stay calm and let you have a little thinker and maybe a drink or two. Then we can have a civilized conversation." I throw my hands out at my side. "Like you'd listen to me! I was calm about it, but you had to go and shove it in my face like the ass you are!"  
Stan holds the bridge of his nose. "I thought you came here to apologize."

"I did! I came here to give my honest to god apology and explain why it happened and sit down and have a discussion with you about it. But no, you had to run your mouth!"  
Stan jolts up. He's shouting now.. "Do you expect me to let you come to my house and do this to me? I've had enough of your bullshit, Kyle! I thought you would have figured it out by now. I don't love you anymore, let a lone want to see your face anymore!"  
I'm shouting too. "You're lying! You know what you're saying isn't true! Whoop-De-Doo, Stanley Marsh finally got the talent to lie to someone!"  
"Shut up!" he snaps.  
"How intimidating." I hiss. "I don't care that you're trying to deny how you feel or whatever shit like that. I still love you and you still love me. Simple as that."

"You use your 'love' once someone cheats on you."  
"Damnit, Stan!" I cry. "I've told you this so many times now! I didn't mean to! It was a mistake! I was completely shit faced, pissed off at you-"  
"Horny." he cuts in.  
I feel my eye twitch once. "Maybe a little horny, and then Peter comes a long and is nice to me. You'd do the same thing!"  
"No I wouldn't!"  
"Wait, you have done the same thing."  
"Don't bring this up Kyle." his voice is a whisper, the complete opposite of mine.  
"Freshman year. You were dating Wendy." his face looks terrified. "This is the year you went on your drunken spree. We were at our first party and you took it over board. You got shit faced. So you took some random chick up to one of the rooms and fucked her. Then, after you realized how gay the party was, you jacked your dads keys and took his car for a spin."  
"Kyle.. please."  
"The same night you got your first D.U.I."  
Stan doesn't look at me. His face is burried in his arms which rest against his knees. My face is bright red from anger, and soon enough, embaressment and shame. What did I just do? I promised him the next day that I would never bring that up... And here I go, making the situation even more worse.  
"Stan... I'm.. I'm sorry."  
"Maybe I'm taking this whole cheating thing worse because of that." he mumbles as he lifts his head some, eyes puffy. "Because I've been in your posistion... because I did the same thing to Wendy and she still doesn't know to this day. And if I was to tell her about it, this is how she would feel, which makes me feel even more worse." I do as I feared; inching forward and taking a seat next to him. He doesn't protest. "None of what I did was right. I've fucked up my life a lot, and I sure as hell have been trying to justify it and try to make it better. And the first time in your life you mess up, I don't want to face you, when I've done worse."  
"That doesn't make what I did right." I murmur.  
"You're right. It doesn't." Stan looks at me. "But at least I know it could have been worse... And it's the first time, and probably last time you'll ever do it."  
"You don't-"  
"I forgive you, Kyle."  
I blink. That was more easy than I thought. Next time I need to be forgiven, I'll just smash peoples secrets in their faces. "Just like that?"  
"Yeah, sure." he mutters. "You got drunk. Like me. You did something horrible. Like me. And then.. you were nice to me and told me what happened, while you could have easily token my car, gotten yourself in huge as trouble, and then decide to never tell me."  
"I don't get it." I sigh.  
"Yeah, well... Take the forgiveness before I change my mind."  
I chuckle. "All right. I take the forgiveness."


End file.
